


Lu Punishes Vicky (and not in the fun way)

by GrumpkinVicky



Series: Vicky n Lu [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Loss, M/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Multi, Panic Attacks, Prompt Fic, Reunions, alternative history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 11:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpkinVicky/pseuds/GrumpkinVicky
Summary: Prompt fic for Spirit Sunday for the MCIT 2019 prompt week (whoop whoop). Vicky experiences a great loss, and seeks out her favoured child to try and rescue him. It doesn't quite go according to plan, but when does it ever do?





	Lu Punishes Vicky (and not in the fun way)

She could and would kill him, kill him stone dead as soon as she got her hands on his frustrating self. It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand why he’d done it, because she sympathised, she really did, well sort of sympathised in the way one could acknowledge another's frustration whilst finding the same situation enjoyable. She had found their last dream utterly wonderful, but she knew, thanks to his less than subtle hints how awful he had found it. He’d bitched the entire time, as if she had any control over where they were pulled to, granted she had just spent an intensive month playing farming games of various types, so if there was going to be any new dream world to play through - no it wasn’t her fault at all. Anyway, he had been ok at the start of the Stardew dream, she’d even convinced the blacksmith to provide Lu with a sword, so he could thwack out his frustrations on the creepy crawlies that had filled the colourful world whilst she pottered with her new farm.

He had bitched, whined and dragged his feet for the entire two year period, before the goal of the dream had been met, that crazy ghost scene which they had almost missed after he had dragged her down into the mines to finally reach the bottom layer. If there had ever been a moment that they skirted close to divorce, it had been then. Stardew had been a close call at points, even with her holding her tongue as he whinged about how long everything took. She had been very good and not pointed out that things went much quicker when two of them did the chores, nor when he had all but abandoned the farm for the mines and Adventurers Guild, even when the young singles would happily move in and feed the animals, or water the crops without being asked… Still he even admitted to it not being too bad, the moments where he could access his creature comforts, Sebastian’s PC becoming a welcome relief, in the world he claimed was too twee and pixelated.

She should have been expecting some kind of retaliation, he had before when he’d been dragged into dreams that either went on far too long, she was deliberately not thinking about Andromeda, or were just beyond bizarre, the Faerie Solitaire where he’d threatened to burn all of the cards, even after she had explained for the umpteenth time they needed them to finish hatching all the eggs. Retaliation this vindictive though, this was unheard of. 

She had spent weeks crafting the perfect playthrough for her precious adopted would be son, Alistair. She had waxed lyrical to Lu over mealtimes of her great plans, how she had balanced it just right to have Warden Alistair in Inquisition, with an awful Hawke who not even Varric would mourn when she would, without a second thought, abandon him in the Fade. Warden Alistair who would meet his mother in Skyhold, before going off to meet up with his one true love, Brosca. 

Lu had borne her babbling with the glazed expression as he often worn when she started to spiral into over analysis and exposition at whatever she obsessed at currently. She had explained in minute detail every thought process that had gone into this particular strain of playthrough, much like he had when she had gone through the Mass Effect Trilogy as a Male Shep for that first time to craft a romance with Tali. He knew exactly how much time she had invested in to getting all the details just right, how she had millions of saves at all the crucial plot points to make sure it happened just so.

He had waited, waited until she had gotten to the perfect point, just before they fell into the Fade at Adamant, luring her to bed so that she could enjoy the culmination of her weeks of hard work, as fresh as a daisy. Left her to wake, alone with a note tacked to his pillow, “Enjoy yourself love”, which only made his actions all the more reprehensible.

She had been sure her PC had been switched off the night previous, but that wasn’t such a terrible problem, and yes her keyboard was straight on rather than the jaunty angle she preferred to have it at, and her wrist rest was off to one side, but George was known for bodging her things out of the way, the ultimate cat in that regard, with his lack of respect for items that didn’t belong to him.

She hit continue, she was prepared to witness her noble Alistair offer up his sacrifice only to be saved by the wonderful Cadash.

She was not prepared for this.

That rat-fink, that bastard, wait - she could just reload a previous save, it was fine, no need to panic, it would all be fine - where were her previous saves? She could find them for her other Inquisitors, all of them with their own careful paths that weave through suiting each one down to the ground, but where was her adorable Cadash? So, ok, yes, deep breath, she could rollback and recover it wouldn’t take that long, and that frigging bastard had wiped them completely. No need to panic, calming breaths, in and out, she had Hawke still, she would just start again from the beginning, it would go quickly, and her evil Hawke was waiting for her to abuse. Wait, this wasn’t evil Hawke, this was the wrong Hawke, this was the good one, she couldn’t leave good Hawke to die in the Fade. She needed her evil Hawke who had scarred her so much when she had played him through.

No no no no no, he wouldn’t have done that, come on DA2, the Hawkes with their different partners, they were all there, winking at her in their radiant goodliness, each a joy in their own special way. Right, she would be able to do this, she could do another evil Hawke run, she would just turn the sound off and not have subtitles on as he destroyed all of their lives. She had played through the games before, just going back two would be fine, and really it’s only one and a half. Because he wouldn’t have touched her Origins, that would have gone from evil to something far worse. Divorce wasn’t good enough for him, castration, with a rusty spoon no less, no - she would overwrite his Factorio saves with, that would teach him.

He had painstakingly deleted all of her hard work over the last month, and he had made sure she couldn’t retrieve it. He knew, he knew that some of the decisions and choices just didn’t pull through properly on the Keep if you tried to world build only on the Keep, because she had bitched as long and hard as he had about having to pull weeds every day on their Stardew farm.

He had taken her perfect Alistair play-through, and he had trapped him in the Fade with Nightmare, had chosen to punish the Wardens, judged them unworthy, and she couldn’t do anything about it. All of the companions seemed to hate poor Cadash, and quite frankly she couldn’t blame them. Fiona, poor Fiona, how could she face talking to her now? 

She knew it was stupid, daft, silly, but her heart ached at the thought of her precious would be son trapped in the Fade, after nobly sacrificing himself for a man who didn’t deserve it. She couldn’t bring herself to start again from the very beginning, to see the young innocent Alistair, when all she could think of was the great man he had become after years of painstaking guiding.

So she slept, seeking out this dream, to see if she could find her way through to this hell version Lu had wrought, and stop Cadash from letting Alistair make the biggest mistake he could ever make. Which was how she found herself here, in the Fade, unsure of when she was in the Fade, but sure that she was definitely here. It wasn’t the first time she had experienced the Fade, nor the second or third, she had been here multiple times, and there was no mistaking it, it had a smell that reminded her of the cellar at the farmhouse months after the Christmas period, when the stench of hanging turkeys had all but faded away into the cold stale air, unmistakable.

It was different this time, she felt different, not so real as previous visits. Not to worry, one of their longest forays into Thedas had started with a brisk jog, jog - who was she kidding, an amble, they had ambled through the Fade and out of the breach. She just needed to find a rift, or a helpful spirit, or a dreamer, in fact she needed to find literally anything but the barren landscape that surrounded her.

At least Lu hadn’t been pulled into this one, wait, he was the reason she was here, he should be here sharing this with her, he liked Alistair as much as she did. Alistair had called him Dad, and while yes it had been in a mocking tone, the underlying message had been clear. Why he had done something so heinous to the child they had watched over still baffled her. 

She was getting distracted, her feet didn’t hurt through, that was nice, even in her dreams they hurt, it was like even her mind understood how her angles invited abuse from even the softest of kid leather. No pain in her feet, a nice positive, her legs weren’t even starting to burn, she must have been walking for a while now, long enough to have played several albums quietly on the back of her mind, more than long enough for her legs to start protesting. Maybe it had been like this last time, and Lu had distracted her from it. 

Overwhelming panic struck as she looked down to check that the lack of pain at her feet, wasn’t masking bloody tracks as it sometimes did, and instead of the greyish green ground beneath where her feet should be, there was nothing, she was floating in mid air, she’d walked off the edge. Her tongue felt too large, she couldn’t breathe, her head shrank back into her neck, skin too tight as she hung in the air, motionless panic, too far to leap forward, too far to leap back, stuck, unable to move as her eyes fixated on the nothing that went on forever. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears, a tattoo repeating, “going to die, going to die, going to die”. 

A gentle hand on her shoulder, another across her face hiding the view, as she was slowly led forward, pliant in her overwhelming fear, all she could do was focus on the solid grounding touch, unknowing until she was moved into a solid chest, a solid broad chest of someone much taller than her, with arms that encompassed, gently stroking her trembling back.

“There, there, you’re safe now, no need to cry, it’s all ok, back on solid, uh fade,” oh gods she was crying, she could feel herself shuddering under the weight of her fear, unable to catch her breath as she was gently rocked like a babe in arms, soft words pressing into her hair.

There was something else, something beyond the zone of safety that protected her from the falling, the nothing that would swallow her whole, oh gods she could feel her stomach in her mouth, gagging as the comforting hands brushed her hair back, rubbing her back as she exhaled bile onto the ground by the armoured feet.

“Shit Princeling, you need to get your mother under control, we have action back here,” That sounded like, Princeling? Alistair, Alistair was here, Varric was here. She shot upright, smacking her head on his elbow, sending her sprawling onto the ground as they both yelped in pain. Wait, it didn’t hurt her, it should have hurt, it definitely hurt him. There he was, her sweet noble idiot, the one both of them knew was her favourite above all but Lu.

She couldn’t help but launch herself at him, swept away in the moment, too much, too soon, but here he was, rescuing her and she had come to rescue him. Her big brave boy, so far he’d come from the timid child she had first met. He’d barely aged since the last time she’d seen him, a few more lines around his eyes, no more scars, that was good, she hated it when he appeared with new scars, a reminder of his fragility in this dangerous world he was fated to occupy. If she could have drawn him to hers, she would in a heartbeat, she cherished every moment she got to spend with him, the man she had spent his life watching over.

Varric was here though, she could see him now, Bianca cocked and aiming at a small horde of fearlings that had scuttled into view, Varric never changed, she was sure that he had a blood-mage on payroll to keep him looking as dashing and suave as ever. Why could she count his crows feet from here?

Oh Solas, hovering at the back looking as unsure as he had for most of her time as Inquisitor, waiting for the other shoe to drop, that minute half smile as he met her gaze before barriering - wait was that, why was Adaar here, why were any of them here, shit Charter - definitely Charter, frigging hell even Fenris, this was the Fade, and they were here, and so was she.

“Less staring Inquisitor, more helping” yes maybe now wasn’t the time to have a sit down chat, and bless them they weren’t mentioning the fact that she had just had a panic attack about - was that really how wide that gap had been? She could have taken a running jump and cleared it, Alistair no could no doubt stride it without any issue, and she had frozen. Oh gods, she could feel the panic rolling through again, even as her beloved child bundled her up.

It didn’t take long for the valiant heroes to rip through the fearlings, even as more would appear, seemingly summoned as she glanced back to the voids in the ground, so much so that Solas had tasked Alistair to keeping her distracted after the last glut of creatures appeared. Which was how she found herself being babbled at in the best fashion.

“I’ve met someone, someone special who can’t wait to meet you. They are wonderful, kind, caring and they even like cheese, and dogs, they love cheese and dogs, not together of course, because that would be wrong. They don’t even mind that our family is a bit special, not you and Dad obviously, well I mean you are special, I meant more you know, Cailan, not Anora, Anora is wonderful and sane, and how she has the patience to deal with my idiot of a brother is beyond me. Now though, with the children he is driving everyone to distraction. First it was child proofing the castle, he had all the knives in the dining room blunted, can you believe that? I have to get them to precut the meat if he's dining with us, because daggers are not allowed out around the children, in case they throw themselves at you and you stab them. I’d like to stab him, the children are pretty safe, but Cailan...

“All of the windows have bars on them, even in my own private rooms, just in case they try and climb out and fall to their deaths on the ground below. I mean really, they aren’t the first children at the Palace, both he and Anora grew up there and they didn’t climb out of the windows to their deaths. Even Loghain agrees with me, swords are only allowed if you have a special scabbard that is only approved by the King if it’s the correct shape and material. It looks ridiculous, no pointy ends, not too firm so if you do end up smacking them they don’t get pricked nor bruised, but not too soft so that the blade doesn’t slice through and decapitate them. It’s blasted ridiculous.

“He goes through stages of foods that need to be banned, I moved out when he banned cheeses for a month and that's when I met her, she’s wonderful and lovely perfect in every way. She couldn’t believe the King was even allowed to ban Cheese,” there was the familiar groan from her two favourite ladies as her beloved Alistair filled the air with his words.

“He didn’t truly ban cheese for all of the land, he just asked the cooks not to use so much of it after one of the twins picked up a rash after being fed some exotic variety by their favourite Uncle,” how she’d missed Fenris’ drawl, and Alistair’s blush, oh Adaar, how wonderful it was to be embraced by her again, and Charter.

“It should be safe now, we can leave for somewhere safer,” why were they looking at each other like that, why were they here at all? Not that she was complaining, her precious Alistair was here and that was all that mattered.

“Inquisitor, you are feeling more grounded now?” Oh Solas, always so polite, even when you look like Cole is at your back with a dagger pressed against it. Where was Cole, oh Fade, that’s right, wait what did he ask?

“Inquisitor? Are you feeling better, can you focus on me?” Of course she could, she was looking at him wasn’t she, her Alistair tough, how pleased she was he was happy, she had despaired he would never find someone special just for him. That smile, that precious smile as she stroked his face, gah it was enough to make her cry.

“Inquisitor, we are going to try and take you out of here, just hold on to Alistair,” they were discussing something she felt she should be paying attention to, but it wasn’t as important as him. Gods, she’d missed him, she could feel herself welling up again, this time with happy teats, pressing her face into his middle and squeezing with all her might.

“Normally I wouldn’t encourage it, but after being covered in snotty children for months on end, if you need to blow, my tunic can take it,” she couldn’t help but giggle-snort, dabbing at her tears with the heel of her hand, “I’m liking the hair though, much more combat ready, bet it dries a lot quicker too, I like the massive rope before, it was good to play with, but this looks lighter, less likely to throttle you” Bleh, her sweet Alistair, even noticing her change of hair, he would make his lucky lady very happy.

She’d felt not real in the Fade, but here, they were in Skyhold, this was the rotunda with that intricate fresco Solas had spent months crafting much to the amusement of her darling Dorian, here she felt stranger still, drifting even as - wait where was Alistair?

She was, this was, had she just been in the war room? These were the gardens where she had upset the Chantry so by planting fine smelling herbs that encouraged all kinds of insect life that plagued them in their open air services, where Morrigan had hidden from Duncan whilst actively seeking out Alistair to mock. Why was she now in the Tavern? She had been alone, and now there were so many people, where had they come from?

“Inquisitor, we need you to focus clearly, you need to - “ What was he doing to her? Oh there Cole was, her lovable scamp, and Alistair, her Alistair, was she crying again. Bless Cole for not complaining as she dug her fingers into his hand, her lovely son appearing as if by magic, that was a funny, a Templar having - no he was touching her again, she missed him so much.

“He needs you to look at him,” oh Cole, she was, behind the veil of tears, she was looking at her child, “You need to anchor her, she’s drifting again,” gah she kept sniffing as her nose dripped, her hand swiping like made as she tried her hardest to smile at them, at him.

It was colder, darker now, but she was curled up in his lap, as he talked to the others quietly, his fingers brushing at the tears dripping down her cheeks onto his tunic, his dry tunic.

“Inquisitor, Vicky, please focus on us, on Alistair if you need to, but you need to anchor yourself,” Solas had such a sad expression on his face, they’d solved that problem, she was sure of it, they’d left him as happy as he could be. Why was Alistair sad, he had found a wonderful special person who shared his devotion to cheese. “Vicky, focus,” no need to snap at her, or maybe there was if Cole was agreeing with him.

“You never call me by my name, it must be serious” perhaps her joking came across different when she had tears dripping, when her nose isn't stuffy and her throat not sore. Still he should have gotten the meaning behind her words.

“You stopped responding to anything else days ago, desperate times, and you did invite me to,” Ah yes, she had, after he gotten snitty about some of her other names, and stopped calling her anything at all. Those were the days, gah that slight smirk reminding her of how tricksy he could be as soon as she gave him an inch.

“Vicky, you are starting to drift again. Maybe we should have spent longer in the Fade,” why was he talking to - oh Dorian, looking dashing as ever, and was that a new colour he was wearing, it suited him. And Felix, hadn’t he turned into a fine young man, his Warden uniform looking far more dapper than her Alistair's, Dorian’s doing no doubt.

“Ah, we have finally been granted your attention my love, yes yes yes, I’ve only grown more handsome since you last saw me, I may even have grown several inches, in the best possible places naturally. Yes that is Felix, looking the epitome of the Tevinter Warden, garbed in the latest Warden Winterwear, he does his countrymen proud.” She couldn’t help but giggle at her friends flare for the dramatique.

“Enchanted as ever, Madame,” oh Felix, as he bowed over her hand, pressing his lips so delicately, a true gentleman, you are a little love, manners, style and he belonged to her Warden’s, her precious Wardens, oh Alistair.

“Now no more tears, he looks lovely, but not that lovely as to send you into silent wailing,” Oh Dorian, may you never change. And Bull, Bull was here, how had she missed him? “Ah, the fashion victim has finally caught your eye, though how could you be blamed for overlooking him when he is wearing the excuse of a not shirt. He has gained inches in entirely the wrong way, poor Krem has had to show him exactly how to bind his impressive pillowy man bosom.”

She found herself in Bull’s arms, she wasn’t sure how, and Alistair - no he was there, it was fine, he had her hand, but Bull had her in his lap, Bull always gave good hugs.

“Nice to see you too Boss, and no Krem didn’t have to do anything Dorian, I’m not the one who has suddenly shown a passion for frilly underwear,” she missed them, even as Dorian looked ready to launch an ice bolt at her seat.

“Don’t hurt Inky,” Sera! That moptop crazy girl, and Dagna who looked as mischievous as she had as the young girl she had been all those years ago, when Vicky had been a Warden upsetting Duncan and Alistair, Alistair, no he had her by the hand, he was here. “Yo Inky, we have some pranks for you, you know to get back into the swing of things now that old bossy boots isn’t here to stop us,”

“Sera,” Oh Bull, he could fit so much meaning into one word. “Sera, don’t cause trouble before the Inquisitor has had a chance to see everyone,” or “Sera, just because Cassandra isn’t here right now doesn’t mean you can call her old, or bossy” or even “Sera, don’t ever change”. Whatever the meaning Sera took away from that one word, left her looking as chastened as she ever had. So barely at all.

“The Seeker is on her way, she had to collect your former Templars my love, she shouldn’t be too much longer, and we’ll have a nice reunion of all of us, well barring -” that had to have hurt, the way Felix thumped his friend, Warden’s packed a punch after all.

“Lu is hiding from me, he had a work thing, it’s ok though, we are still very much together,” there was that look, the look she had seen before, gah her eyes stung, and now it was Bull wiping his dry fingers against her wet cheeks.

“Ah, well, yes, so Cole and Alistair are going to keep you company until the others arrive, they won’t leave you, at all.” Eloquent Dorian, why would he need, oh Bull, he hugged so well, the right amount of squeeze, and and his lovely natural heat like a hot water bottle that remained at just the right temperature when her insides hurt. 

“They had to go and get them,” bless Cole, always knowing what she needs to know. She’d seen both of her favourite ladies, but they weren’t here. Others were missing too, oh, wait, Varric was here, and that was Fenris, she knew she’d seen Fenris.

“Isabella is bringing them back from Kirkwall,” Fenris was almost as good as Cole at deciphering her looks, they’d spent enough time in the quiet dark depths together, hiding whilst lost. He had been a true friend, he could do with more padding though, and there was that smirk he got when he accused her of mothering. Why was she constantly leaking?

“Great job Broody,” oh Varric, he better have written that book by now, she wanted to see how he had described their actions, whether all the important bits had made the cut or if he had just focused on the flowery, unimportant crap that had made the cut in his epic Tale of Hawke. 

“You won’t enjoy it, he put in all the bits that you forgot happened,” she giggled at Cole who whispered in her ear, whilst her favourite male dwarf, glowered at them playfully across the table.

“I was hardly going to put in how you did a presentation, instructing step by step the correct way to communicate with other nations, and their own citizens. Nor the illustrated leaflet on why humans are not the most important race, although it has somehow managed to make its way into the version that Orzammar reads.” She’d been very proud of that leaflet, after she had sat them all down to explain why it needed to be illustrated, and why it had to be simple imagery and not the Elvhen style Solas preferred. She had been trying to teach, not have the purpose be lost because the population didn’t have fine art degrees.

“I sent one to the Arishok, he sent me back a case of horn balm,” Alright Bull, it was nice that even after everything that had happened between them, he was still able to reach out to their former companion.

“The Empress also has both versions, they find the extra inserts most amusing, especially the one the Chantry tried to ban,” oh he had found a copy of the manual Lu had done after all. Cullen had said he was sure it was still in circulation up until the war, she was pleased, that was a great piece of work.

“She’s calmer now, it’s safer,” ah Cole, he was still such a special love, always worrying but it was true, she really did feel calmer, she still didn’t feel real though, a stiff breeze could carry her away, though more grounded than she had before.

Time seemed to fly, constantly cosseted in a lap, or sandwiched between the many old friends who graced her with their presence, her Alistair always in sight, and her adorable Cole always there to answer the questions she struggled to ask out loud. So many familiar faces that she missed, Harding with her cheeky wink, she was a woman who knew exactly who she was, and Krem, strong steady Krem, who swung her around until she was sure she was going to throw up, with Bull cheering him on in the background.

Then Cullen, her other special project, and Rylen, the sweet rogue that he was. Blackwall, Blackwall decked out in sombre attire, a complete opposite to the splendour of the Dorian inspired Warden winter wear that Felix modelled, was escorting the delectable Josie. Josie who greeted her with the grace of someone who had finally forgiven the shit storm the Couple had left the Inquisition with, after they had dropped the leaflets in multiple cities aided by the ever hungry for chaos Sera. It hadn’t exactly been their fault that the drop had gone so well, nor that they had left shortly after. Still Blackwall’s arm around her waist, no doubt aided the forgiveness, was she - no, she looked, gods those blasted tears again.

Where was Cullen, oh he was whispering with Alistair like they had when they were trying to hide back in training, her lovable naughty boys. Rylen, sweeping her off her feet into a full on smooch, as she giggled at his bristles, he’d chosen to deliberately not shave, because he knew she preferred a bit of scruff, or so he grandly informed her with a twinkle in his eye, rolling his rs in that brogue she enjoyed so dearly. Her cocky Rylen, with his over egged wink, before throwing her like a sack of spuds to her adorably clever boys, who caught her as if she weighed nothing at all.

“To think we were just talking about when you appear again,” There was an awkward pause as her Alistair smacked him in the ribs, causing him to double over, making her shriek as she tipped over with him. The sensation bewildering as the world span the wrong way. Wait, she didn’t feel the blood rush to her head as she normally would when the wrong way up, and her clothes weren’t hanging oddly, she could still see, it was the wrong way up, but she could still see clearly, or clearly as she could before, the veil of tears blurring her version so that they all appeared slightly hazy.

“Puppy!” ah her red headed giant of a man was here, and with him her favourite girls, who righted her quickly whilst the Avvar stared at her in wonder. He opened his mouth, before being interrupted by Cole, who pulled him away to one side, whispering in his ear, his weatherworn face a picture. Now this was a man who had changed the most out of all of them, that much she knew, no longer the angry youngling who tried to fight the sky, this was a man who knew his place, was happy and content, contentment sat like an old friend in the lines that proudly shared his growth. 

She was distracted just as easily by Charter, her adorable lithe clever Charter, had she grown her hair out even longer than before, those were some intricate braids, she could tell Adaar had her hand in there. Charter, snuggling up close, pressing soft kisses on her cheeks and lips, whispering sweet words of love, then both of them being swept up into her wonderful girls embrace, Adaar squishing them into her matronly soothing embrace, when had Adaar turned into the Mother - those tears, bleagh it was a happy time. But they chattered happily at her, whisking her into a buoyant haze of emotions that were more important than the words spoken, feelings and touches that passed so freely between them, familiar and comforting. This was why they were her favorite girls, they were the best.

Hawke! And Merril, who looked resplendent in her Elvhen articles the creation of which, she was sure no small part could be attributed to her Tevinter and Ancient friends. Then Anders, she’d missed that rapscallion, and Justice, the spirit who had long since given up on pretending he had returned for any other reason than he missed the Kirkwallers after he had been ousted from Anders being. And there was Cassandra, hiding at the back, looking nervous for reasons she couldn’t understand, even as Alistair beckoned her closer.

“My heart soars seeing you all here,” all she could manage to stutter out as the tears returned, the happy ones, that made so many of them seem uncomfortable, as if she would wash away with the cascade of them. Couldn’t they see her smile, gah, maybe not from behind her hand that had return to bash them away. Bull again, Alistair was with Cassandra, Cullen taking his place as hand holder extraordinaire, the ever present Cole hovering by her shoulder. She was so loved, she loved them, all of them, not just her precious Alistair.

Then peals of giggles as she was tugged into the roaming hands of her favourite Pirate, who had managed in the intervening passage of time, to acquire as many hands as a full four men, groping and tweaking whilst a mixture of cat calls (from Bull) and disapproving grunts (Cassandra) and all that in between, provided the soundtrack as she felt very appreciated by the devastatingly attractive and attentive woman.

Passed round and round for what felt like hours, feet never touching the ground, so much love and affection as they reminisced, filling her in on the months she had been missing, the many trials and tribulations of Dorian’s forays into bringing true fashion to the unwashed masses. The threats to Cullen’s sanity as they wrangled former Templars back into health, whilst his esteemed second was the bane of all fathers in the greater outlying region, for after all as he so proudly stated, you do not shit in your own backyard. Rylen’s dismay as his supposed bosses refusal to join him out on the town, leaving him to service all the lonely singles solo. Issy promised to lend a hand on their return, for the sake of his sanity naturally, Anders offered to swing by a month later to heal all those no longer lonely singles, who would require it after so much attention, Issy had thrown him a mock glare at the insinuation of pox ridden wench that he had managed to instil in the innocent offer. 

Cole let her know exactly how many different types of honey he had managed to track down, in his search to find the perfect gift for the new Divine. She had been particularly impressed when he had found some cherry blossom honey, it had smelt divine, though she hadn’t wanted to taste it. In fact she hadn’t really wanted to eat at all. But it smelt lovely, and Alistair assured her it tasted nice enough that even a snob like their former redheaded companion turned Spymistress turned Divine, wouldn’t turn her nose up at. He got swatted by Cassandra, though managed to avoid having to apologise.

She was very proud of Sera’s exploits, as she had continued to expand upon her partners flair for the bizarre, setting off increasingly intricate and convoluted traps for nothing more than the joy of experimentation. In many ways they were as stylish as Dorian, not that she would dare compare them outloud, she wasn’t sure who would take the most offence, other than Dagna who would merely twinkle at her. She loved that amazing twinkling beacon of progress.

Charter had settled in nicely with Adaar and Puppy, the three of them as inseparable as ever, proving to be a fine first, second and third line of defence for Skyhold and her occupants, who had been granted indefinite permission to stay. Some of the Nobles on either sides of the borders still liked to pry, content to have ignored the icebound lands until it was formally claimed away from them. There would always be those who wanted purely because someone else had, and that was why there would always be a need for those like her adorable trio.

It was funny how no one had asked her, not even once, they looked at each other, and they would look at her with that expression she had seen before, but they didn’t ask. Until one by one they started to disappear, until she was tucked into Bull’s embrace, being gently rocked as her Ancient started to speak.

“You remember what we discussed after Adamant? How we needed a way of being able to tell when you returned, a way to try and reach you when you weren’t here?” He was talking to her like she was a child, a skittish child who didn’t understand. She did remember, how could she forget, they had been so very angry, so angry at the way Lu had disappeared from them, whilst she had snuck off alone in the middle of the dark night. But Nightmare had died, and she didn’t have to choose between any of her Wardens or Hawke, because damn that man, damn them all, they would jump into lava at the drop of a hat without thinking it through at times. There was always a better way, but they were always so keen on the way that ended up with them dead. 

“Lu is easier to reach than you, you immerse yourself fully into your dreams. I believe it is how you do what you do, but Lu dreams in the same way us mere mortals do,” she giggled at that, he was as mortal as a Lobster, liver forever unless caught and boiled alive. 

“He believed you would be visiting us soon, it’s how we were able to assemble so quickly,” he kept pausing and looking at her, she understood obviously, did she understand? Solas had been talking to Lu? Why hadn’t Lu mentioned it to her? Lu knew she would come here? Yes, yes it made sense, did it make sense?

“If we could leave you alone with Alistair, we would,” her stomach was starting to hurt, she could feel herself starting to panic, even as she was surrounded with their comforting presence. Why was Bull telling her to breath? The sobs were back, even as she was cocooned so tightly, so lovingly, surrounded by the second best people she could ever ask for. Which was unkind, but her Lu, she wanted him more, which was wrong, she had needed to see them, she had needed to be here, she couldn’t stop thinking about her boys, her Alistair, but now, in this moment, it wasn’t him that she needed.

“It hurts, it’s not fair, why does it hurt so much?” those were her words but not from her mouth, she could feel the aching emptiness, the stabbing scraping at her insides, so much pain. She was keening, she needed, she ached, she keened. She needed, she didn’t know what she needed, she just hurt so much. She was lost.

“We miss you, but you need to wake up,” her beloved Alistair, his head resting against hers, penetrating the cloud of overwhelming grief. “You won’t be alone, I promise, Solas promises, but you need to wake up, please wake up, for his sake, for your sake.” When did he get so wise, her belligerent young man, her trouble maker, the bright spot that had called to her so often.

“He’s waiting, worried, hoping hurting, wanting his Vicky back,” oh Lu, oh her poor Lu, she was the strong one, she couldn’t remember the last time they had - she loved him so much but it hurt, hurt more than anything she had ever known, and she had hidden, buried herself deep within, pretending, acting.

“We all want you to know how sorry we are for your loss,” she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see through the veil of tears, as her precious, precious Alistair placed his hand on the void that hurt so much. Hanging there, in that moment, whilst reality crashed back in with prodigious technicolor, and if she had shoulders, they would have stiffened as she finally took control of the maelstrom of grief and pain.

A steadying breath, a shake of her head to centre herself.

“I love you more than anything, I adore you all and words can not express how much I am indebted to everyone one of you for this, but I need to go home.” 

He was waiting for her as she woke, with a gentle smile and a hug that no one else could ever match.

The alternative title: Lu punishes Vicky (and not in a fun way) otherwise known as Lu is smart, kind and wonderful and loves his wife dearly.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after an unreleased long fic in which the titular characters have been visiting Thedas at various points in the characters history and tweaking it. A visit that for Vicky and Lu takes place in a single dream, which can like in the Chronicles of Narnia, take hours, days, months or even years in a single setting depending on the goal that Vicky deems to set for them subconsciously. The ability to dreamwalk is hers alone, although she has the ability to drag others along for the ride, her list of victims so far being her younger sister, her husband and one friend.
> 
> This story started from the Spirit Sunday prompt from the 2019 MCIT prompt week, that quickly turned into Thirsty Thursday and Terrible Tuesday (I figure it might even cover Warden Wednesday - but lets not be too greedy).
> 
> At some point the original fic may be released, when the titular characters have finished cavorting through Theda’s history with gay abandon, but currently they just keep interfering with my ability to edit over writing more exploits.
> 
> Oh and if it wasn’t clear, Vicky : Spirit of Grief.


End file.
